That Kind of Person
by Isis1
Summary: Chloe contemplates Lex's facade, a little lamenting of Clark. The fic's all Chlex, though.
1. Default Chapter

What is it about some people? You know the ones.   
They're so illusive, aloof, a complete mystery. You've seen   
them from afar, at first, thinking there couldn't be anything  
else beyond their beautiful appearance. Then there are those   
who don't hide anything, what you see is what you get.   
  
I could tell you a million reasons why I like Clark,   
wait, liked Clark. I think, though, it was his eyes. A puppy   
dog brown color, long, luscious eye lashes, which he doesn't   
think twice about using when he's in trouble. He knows I can't  
bare the 'I just lost my dog' look. Why did I stop liking him?   
Two words, Lana Lang. How could I possibly love someone, who   
loves someone else, who loves someone else. Is that right, yeah,   
but back to the point. I refuse to sit idly by while Clark makes   
drool puddles. I refuse to get pushed aside like an old toy and   
then thrown away for the new. Clark's the person who from the first   
time seeing him, you know how he is. He's the boy that picks up your   
books if you drop them, regardless of your "popularity" status. He's   
the boy that's up in the senile old lady's tree trying to rescue her cat   
or cats, but, I digress. He's the boy that's an all around "nice guy",   
but every "popular" girl can't see through their own dilusions of the big   
muscular type being the only ones for them. I sort of pity Clark now.   
All he can do is long for Lana, never making a move toward, not wanting   
to hurt Whitney's feelings, and not wanting to admit his to her. If only   
he could un-glue his eyes from her, for even a minute, he would see something,   
not me, perhaps, but someone else, someone great.   
  
The illusive person. Ah. This is the kind of person I've grown to   
enjoy, to look forward to. In my short life, I have never met someone mysterious,   
until I met Lex Luthor. Surely you've heard of him. Kind of tall, lovely blue   
eyes, bald. No? Not ringing any bells? Well, let me tell you a few things   
about him. He's cold. Well, not cold to everyone, but most people, especially   
when it comes to buisness. I suppose he gets it from his father, Lionel Luther.   
Oh, you know him, do you? Lex is usually over looked. Oh, he's just a rich boy,   
living off his father, he's so bad, blah, blah, blah. I've heard it a thousand   
times, oh, don't get my friend Pete started on Lex. I think he's the president   
of the "I hate all Luthors club" with Clark's dad being vice president. I know   
Lex did some...for lack of a better word, questionable things. But, don't we all   
make mistakes, don't we all deserve a second chance, and in some cases a third or   
fourth? You probably think I'm a small town girl, good to the bone, right?   
Well....okay, okay, I am, but it's not like being good is bad. I mean it has   
its own perks in its own. But, there's always that little devil sitting on   
the left side of someones shoulder, I know mine, that pokes and prods, until   
it gets what it wants. The bad side of a person, is by far the most interesting.   
It gives the person character, if it doesn't make you frightened.   
  
Lex, I hate to say, has a way with people. He's the only one who can lie   
through his teeth and have everyone believe him. I think I'm going to call him   
Lucky from now on, not to his face of course, I'm kind of on a edge when he's around.   
I mean, I know he wouldn't hurt me or anything, but I'd hate to see him absolutely   
furious, with no restraint. Lex is lucky though, no matter what bad thing that   
happens to him, he lands on his feet, like a cat. He even sometimes smiles like   
that cat from Alice in Wonderland. That smile makes me want to roll up into a   
ball and shield myself from the devilish things he might be thinking. And, I   
realize I'm rambling, but I don't really care. I haven't been able to say, not   
to anyone, not even aloud, for fear of having someone hear me. I think...I know   
I'm falling for Lex. Ha! There I wrote it, now if only I could say it. Maybe   
another few months and I'll whisper it.   
  
Funny how people just creep up on you. About before, you know, Lex   
being a cat, well, he is. He snuck up on me, wanna guess where? The library,   
of all places, I would have thought he would have sent one of his gazillian   
servants to do his bidding. I know that's kind of harsh, but I never known   
someone who had servants. I guess I'm kind of jealous.   
  
I think he knows that I think he had something to do   
with the Nicodemus plant. Did I mention my little theory, no?   
Well, where would the "good doctor" get the money to bring back   
the flower. Someone would've had to have backed him with money a  
nd the lab, which was quite a lab, I might add. Someone with tons   
of money and willing to loan it out, per se, without having it come   
back to him in one way or another.   
  
I didn't intend to touch his face, it just happened. I know, I know,   
that's a lame excuse. Like when someone cheats, the victim asks, how did it   
happen and the "villian" says "it just happened." Yeah, well, things just   
don't happen, do they? We were snarking, you know, that little friendly snark,   
where you try to make an ass out of the other person, while making yourself   
appear intelligent. He's had lots of practice, I can tell, he kicks my ass   
all the time, and he absolutely must have the last word. I like to how the   
world would go on if Lex Luthor didn't have the last word. Anyways, he mentioned   
something about finishing the interview, he was bored at his, I think his words   
were, "humble abode." Humble abode my ass, more like giganta-huge abode, or big   
ass house could be used. For the first time since I've talked to him, he made me   
go off into my own little wonderland. Let's just say, naughty, naughty thoughts   
entered my head about him, some involving chocolate syrup and such, I must remind   
myself to slap my hand later, but I'd much prefer to slap Lex's ass. There're   
those naughty thoughts again. Lost in my little world I stroked his face, absent   
mindedly. He just sat there, staring, mouth slightly ajar. I was paying attention,   
yet, I wasn't. Then, surprising the hell out of me, he took my hand in his and   
started nibbling on my fingers. I was enjoying it, quite thoroughly actually,   
until my "good girl" syndrome took over. I stood up quickly, knocking over the   
chair I was sitting in. Lex looke rather surprised, and I think I saw sorrow   
well up in him. I think I mumbled something about homework and like the coward   
I am, ran away. But, see that's not the problem, me being a coward and all,   
I've fallen for Lex, right? So, when he responded to my, less than hesitant   
touch, could it be that he feels something for me, as well? 


	2. Lex's Thoughts

What is it about some girls? You know the ones.   
There's the stereotypical blonde personality, willing to   
do what ever the next persons doing, copying every trend   
that comes into fashion, absolutely no mind. They're the   
ones you look at and you know what kind of girl they are.   
All you have to do is point a finger at a bed, and, well...  
you know the rest.   
  
Then, there is the highly intellectual. She's the   
one in a coffee shop, sitting alone at a table, reading a book.   
The one with no or hardly any make up on, and always willing to   
snark when the chance arises. I'm guilty of falling for the   
"blonde" type, I know it's a bad habit. One I think that's   
just been broken.   
  
You see I met this girl. At first, I blew her off   
as merely an annoying reporter, trying to uncover some dirt   
on me. But, that's not her, well, part of her. She's the   
only one who openly argues with me. She's the one who keeps   
me second guessing myself and the one who never ceases to amaze   
me. Chloe Sullivan. Her name sounds so sensual, it rolls off   
my tongue delicately. Chloe, she's gorgeous, not that she knows   
it though, in fact I believe she deems herself ugly. And she's   
not one of those girls who belittles herself just to have someone   
else compliment them, so she's not ego centric. Maybe it's the   
contradiction that embodies her. She's full of life and vigor,   
outgoing even, but then at the same time, like death and sadness,   
empty. Don't get me wrong, I like having Clark as a friend, my only   
friend, my best friend, but sometimes he's so dense, I think that if   
Chloe walked through his bedroom naked, all he would say is, "Hey,   
Chloe, what's up?" It would be just like him to miss the beautiful   
goddess before him and go for the less than next best thing. Lana   
Lang. I don't hate her, but I don't like her. There's just something   
about her, something so infuriating, if I hadn't taken anger mangement   
classes, I all ready would have slapped her. I think she's just too...  
what't the word that fits here? Oh, superficial, yeah, that's it. All   
that make up and conceited filled voice. Infuriating, that's all I can say.   
  
The feelings for Chloe didn't come out of nowhere. They didn't   
just appear. They were hidden, deep inside me. From the first time I   
met her, I felt something, but years of hiding my feelings from my father,   
in utter fear of what he would do if he knew that I was capable of feeling   
something, anything. I buried them, deep, I shoved them down and would have   
never let them up, if were not for her. Until just recently, I would have said   
I was incapable of loving anyone, then when I took in that Chloe was everything   
that I imagined a truly "good" person was, it was then I was hooked. Chloe was a   
drug, very addictive, like caffenine. You like it the first time, so you go back   
for more, then, that's all you can think about. I did everything to catch her   
attention, to make sure she would never put me out of her mind, refurnishing   
the school with computers, donating to her favourite charity, and what not.   
I even went as far as reading the high school newspaper, just to catch a glimpse,   
a feel of her by reading her words. Though she wrote of many things, it was   
her Wall of Weird that entranced me.   
  
How did I know that she knew of the Nicodemus? Oh, quite simple   
actually. The look in her eyes when she gazed at me. She didn't know all   
of what I had done, but her suspicion was not lost upon me. So, it when I   
met up with her at the library, that I knew. I dropped a few hints, a few   
leads, I couldn't help, my sharp tongue emitted the words that had plagued   
my mind. She responde, as any reporter would, short answers, saying nothing   
to reveal herself. I didn't mean to drone on, the glazed look in her eyes,   
told me she wasn't hearing anything I was saying, especially when I mentioned   
about me stading up on the table and stripping for her. Her monotonous reply,   
"Yeah, sure." I shook my head, contemplating, would she notice if I actually   
did, or more importantly, I suppose, would she be excited about it? It was when   
she stroked my face, starting from the top of my head moving across my ear, then   
resting on my cheek, her thumb making small circles on my flesh. Her hands were   
warm and soft, she smelled faintly of vanilla, a scent I am exceeding fond of,   
but would never tell anyone. How ironic it is that she wears it and has no idea   
of how it drives me wild with desire. I shifted my face so her fingers slid down   
to my mouth, where I began to lick, suck, and nibble. Suddenly, for some reason,   
she flew from her chair, leaving me with my bitterness, sorrow, and guilt. What   
was I doing? Clearly there are obstacles between us: her age, her father being my   
employee, and the largest obstacle, Clark. Though I'd never admit this to him or   
anyone, sometimes, he frightens me. He does things that no, "normal" person would   
be able to do and always seems to be around when something "bad" happens. But, back   
to the question that enters my mind, even now, Chloe was the one who iniatiated the   
"foreplay" if you could call it that, so, does she, maybe by some dumb luck, feel   
something, other than loathing, for me? 


End file.
